Sharing a poem titled “Bureau of” by Joyelle McSweeney, who received the Windham-Campbell Prize today. 

This is the body of,

waiting to turn on.

graced with a little tremor,

a little-known form, a fibrous hook,

a flimsy lever that makes the jar work

a lever and a clasp

:voila. The pathetic filofax

unfurls, the owl describes;

on air; makes an apse; lopes left

off the phonepole, woodenly.

we rise above the wind park,

commemorially.

our whorled fossil, pinned open.

our emergency kit

holds aspirin. digitalis. adrenalin-in-in.